Prostye Dvizheniya
by Ksiezniczka
Summary: Smut, in need of a better title. Most people date for a while before sleeping together - Russia and Belarus are not most people. In fact, it all starts one night when Russia has had more vodka than even he can take...
1. The One Night Stand

It was sometime around midnight, perhaps even later, when the festivities finally began to die down a bit, though the large man with the ashy hair did not notice others beginning to leave the outdoor festival area from his perch, as drunk as he was at this point

The somewhat-husky man took another large swig of the bottle he held, having long forgotten glasses at this point of the night. It had no taste anymore, and the burn as the liquid slid down his throat was a much more welcome pain than the dull stabbing sensation of the memories. The memories he always wanted to forget but was forced to confront every year at this insipid annual get-together.

1989 had been the beginning of the end, he supposed. It had been Poland who had started it - that one had never behaved like he should have, and reflecting back, he wondered if he should have come down on him harder for this, even though he himself had been in no position to do such a thing. Logic was not something that often entered this man's mind, especially when he was this drunk.

Yes, 1989, in Spring. Poland had started it and the others had followed. The Berlin Wall had fallen that autumn, and then they all left him alone and more broken than ever before. He tried to tell himself he didn't care, didn't really give a shit what they thought. What did they know, anyway?

Very shortly after they had _humiliated_ him - it couldn't have been more than four or five years after the fact - someone had the gall to suggest a celebration of the end of the world's largest communist regime. And every year, ever since - another large swig, this time he shuddered as the cheap liquid went down. Of course, he had to come, had to put on an act, as if he was happy for them, when he really just wanted to see them frown. He did so like it when others looked more troubled than he felt.

Again Russia brought the bottle up, frowning when he realised it was empty, and dropping it with the others.

"I do believe you've had enough," a soft voice behind him caused the large country to whirl around and lose his balance. Arms reached out to catch him, and Russia fought to focus, his vision almost as fuzzy as his thoughts.

"You-" he began, slurring as he spoke. "Y'don' know nothing."

"Niisan," the voice - he was almost positive he knew it, but could not place it, could not place the words- continued, "Niisan, you're drunk."

"Am not," he pouted.

"You can't even stand up straight," whoever was holding him continued matter-of-factly, no emotion piercing the feminine voice. "Come, Niisan, stop resisting. Come on, let's get you back to the hotel room."

Hands pulled at his coat, leading him to - well, he wasn't sure where, wasn't sure of anything except that moving this much was making him dizzy and so he clung to this strange woman so he wouldn't fall what felt like hundreds of kilos.

Finally he felt himself pushed down upon something soft. It was darker in here, and in his surprise he pulled his kidnapper down with him so that she was above him upon the bed. His vision was still unfocused, but he could now make out that he was with a girl - a very pretty girl - and Russia giggled without really knowing why. The girl sat up but didn't move any more than that, so that the two were perpendicular to each other.

He found himself reaching up, tugging her back down, all the while cracking up for no reason that he could discern.

Were it anyone else, they may have protested, even pushed away when Russia began sloppily suckling their neck. Belarus was not anyone else. Part of her knew she probably should stop such a thing, but she could honestly see no harm in it - after all, in his state he wouldn't possibly remember. She'd wanted this for so long, and he had initiated at long last - it couldn't possibly be taking advantage if he had initiated, could it?

Belarus told herself this as she began removing his jacket and the top beneath it. She repeated this in her head over and over until she was convinced. Continued repeating it until she was straddling him in nothing but her panties, all the while revelling in his sloppy, drunken, lustful kisses that fell indiscriminately upon her mouth, her entire face and jawline. When she tried to move up, she found him moving with her, leaning against the headboard of the bed as the two sat up and he continued suckling loudly at her neck.

"Niisan," she whispered in the dark.

He mumbled something into her collarbone, sounding just a little shiny and childish as he did so. She allowed herself a small almost-smile in the dark, and rather than continue her request vocally, she gently picked up one of his large hands off her thigh, placing it upon her pale, supple breast.

To her surprise and delight he began massaging it, tugging lightly on the nipple as his other hand rested warmly in the small of her back. He trailed his mouth and tongue down her body to take the milk-white globe he wasn't massaging into it, his prominent nose lightly tickling her on its way to her chest.

The sudden warm, wet sensation as he placed his mouth upon her nipple shocked her but wasn't entirely unpleasant, the way the hardness of his teeth contrasted with how gentle - and slightly clumsy - his right hand was with the other breast.

She tried to return the favour with her own two hands, but his body squirmed, shying away, and so she found herself settling for tousling - and slighlty tugging at - her brother's ash-blonde hair as he continued to attempt to devour her right teat.

Eventually his fingers found their way down from her chest, trailing down her stomach until they found her pink crevice. He began moving his index and middle fingers up and down the warm, moist slit in welcome little circular motions. Belarus found herself slightly rocking toward him, biting her lip to keep from making any noise and ruining this. She was finding it more and more difficult to keep her composure with every movement of his hand, which he in his drunken state was obviously focusing more on, his mouth barely doing anything anymore as his fingers moved up in her panties toward her clit.

Unable to take much more of this and feeling his hardness beneath her, she rolled off him in one quick movement to remove the offending garment. He rolled with her, now pinning her down and leering down at her, violet orbs hazy and unfocused, booze-scented breath heavy and face flushed.

She could make out a crooked, leering smile on his face in the dark as he loomed above her. She allowed her eyes a quick glance downward to see her precious brother's unclothed erection looming dangerously close to her as well. Finally, Belarus thought, her precious Russia-niisan would be one with her, if only for one night.

She began spreading her legs a bit, obligingly, and when Russia did not take the hint, Belarus took initiative herself, impatiently reaching out and gently placing his throbbing member closer and closer to her entrance until finally his alcohol-hindered mind understood and he sank in.

Before she could stop herself, Belarus let out a slight moan as her brother merely held himself there for a split second. She had not expected him to be so large, although she knew she should have, with the expanse of his land mass and all. He began moving inward even more, completely filling her in a way that would hurt if she didn't want it so bad, slowly at first but eventually harder, giving out little grunts in that deceptively high-pitched tone of his.

Eventually the years of repression got the best of her and Belarus allowed herself to completely lose herself in the sensations of finally being with her older brother whom she loved so much, her delicate hips wildly thrusting up against his body, feeling him deep inside her and hearing small smacking noises with every thrust. She could see his eyes were scrunched shut, he was biting his lip as he continued grunting, looking almost as if he were about to cry or something. In sharp contrast, Belarus forced herself to keep her eyes open as she watched her brother's beautifully imperfect face.

She cursed inwardly as a whimper escaped the back of her throat - Russia was so large that every time he slammed back down into her hot folds it was like entering for the first time, and his speed was ever-quickening. She gasped again, throwing her arms around his neck and whimpering his name over and over as she slowly pushed his head downwards until she captured his mouth in her own, having to manoeuvre a bit clumsily in the dark to accommodate his nose.

Belarus found herself thrusting her tongue into Russia's mouth with as much raw animalistic lust as he was thrusting himself into her cunt, and she knew she couldn't last much longer.

Finally, her whole body tightened up and she drew in a sharp breath as she released his mouth, shaking as she buried her face in his shoulder. Her body built up into an uncontrollable shudder as her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks. A high pitched groan was the only noise she could make as she came, losing all control.

When some sense returned to Belarus a few minutes later, and the shivering had subsided, she rested her head back on the pillow and looked up at Russia, wondering what was taking him so long. She closed her eyes, put her hands on his shoulders and sighed as he stopped thrusting for a few agonising seconds, savouring the feeling, until he gasped loudly and just let go.

Her eyes again shot open when she felt the first jet up inside of her, watching Russia's head throw itself back as the second wave flooded her, dripping out onto the bedsheets. Belarus felt her own face tense up as she wrapped her arms around his neck again until his orgasm subsided and exhausted, he pulled out and flopped unceremoniously beside her on the bed, one hefty arm still laid out across her as he panted.

Belarus sighed again as she reached up to brush some hair away from his sweaty brow. "Niisan..." she whispered. "Thank you..."

Russia said nothing, allowing the drunkenness to fully consume him as sleep overtook him entirely.


	2. The Morning After

**This chapter's not as smutty, except for the end. Because of my oral fixation.** **I still cannot believe I ship this. Haha, I'm not even gonna lie though, it was kinda fun to write, even if it also gave me hell. Russia, you're a bitch to keep IC. I'm not sure I succeeded. Belarus, you're even worse.**

**Obligatory really short LietPol scene cos I can't help myself. They're mah OTP. SO MUCH OH GOD. (As my LJ will quickly reveal)**

**Thanks Kiwi for helping me with some of Bela's lines and for emotional support the whole time I was writing this.**

**Bela and Russia (c) Himaruya. I just am a sick freak who writes fuck!fic for them.**

--

Although his eyes were not yet open, Russia was awake and his head hurt. _Horridly_. Fuck. His throat was dry, his mouth tasted like the bottom of a birdcage, and though he did not want to, he forced his eyes open.

Bad idea.

Light was pouring into the window and he was blinded temporarily, head spinning in agonising pain. He wasn't even sitting up yet and he was so dizzy that he knew he was hungover.

Squinting, he turned his head to the side. And though just a few seconds ago he had not thought this possible, Russia automatically felt even worse as his eyes adjusted just enough to realise who was sleeping next to him. Naked.

Russia jumped up, shooting out of bed, bright red as he realised he was unclothed as well. His head spun even more and he had to sit down for a second, the combination of the hangover and the slow realisation of what must have happened making his stomach churn.

"Блядь!" he cursed, burying his face in his hands as he sat on the floor and remaining like this for a few minutes before his stomach churned again, violently this time.

Quickly, more quickly than he really should have with his head spinning like that, he grabbed his coat and threw it on, running out of the room with his hand over his mouth and not caring that he was wearing just the coat and nothing else. Barely, just barely, he made it outside of the building - pushing down more than a few innocent bystanders in his rush - before he fell to his knees, retching and dry heaving until finally his stomach churned again and last night's cheap vodka made a second appearance.

This went on for a few minutes before finally he stopped. It was only then that he realised someone was holding his hair back. Panting, he wiped his mouth and turned his head.

Belarus stood there fully clothed, holding his scarf and shoes, and betraying no emotion on her face. Russia bit his lip, awaiting the demand that he take responsibility for sleeping with her and get married, knowing she was not a heavy drinker and surely remembered the entire encounter.

However, rather than demand marriage or another go or something, she merely handed him the scarf and shoes, as well as his gloves and a water bottle he had not spotted before.

"You should rinse out your mouth and put some shoes on before somebody sees you, niisan," Belarus noted calmly, before briskly turning and walking away.

He gaped stupidly as he watched her walk away. Surely she knew what had happened. So why hadn't she brought it up?

He pressed his hand to his temples for a few seconds before pulling on the rest of his clothes and standing up - slowly so as not to aggravate this accursed hangover anymore. He took a swig of the water, swishing it around his mouth before spitting it on the ground and then walked back towards the hotel entrance, knowing he should at least try to eat - as much as his stomach protested - before returning to his house.

The food the hotel was offering neither looked nor smelled appealing at the moment, but regardless he grabbed some toast and plastic-looking eggs, before forcing himself to smile and seating himself at the same table as some of his former housemates.

The two other, smaller nations at the table - Lithuania and Poland, as it were - froze in their place, staring as the larger nation-tan began biting into the disgusting hotel-food. Finally the silence was broken.

"Like, is that dried barf on your chin? Gag me!" Poland wrinkled his nose. Russia snapped his head up to look at the two across for him, only now noticing they were staring. He brought a gloved hand up to scratch off the bit he had missed before, still chewing slowly.

"R-Russia-san?" Lithuania asked silently, causing both of the others to stare at him, now. "You don't look well. Is everything okay?"

Poland snorted, muttering something that was probably insulting under his breath, but Russia chose to ignore him.

"Да," he nodded, smiling. "A bit hungover and in need of advice, but don't worry your pretty little head." His grin grew as, despite his command, Lithuania bit his lower lip with worry. He did so enjoy how easy it was to worry this one. Poland, however, took notice as well and shot him a glare. No matter, though, Poland had never much liked him anyway.

"A-advice?" Lithuania gulped. "Perhaps... if you like, I could try to help?" Curse his kind heart. Russia scared him, but he didn't like seeing anyone upset if he knew he could help.

"Of course," Russia nodded, forcing his voice to remain cordial as his stomach growled threataningly again. He pushed his plate away, most of the food untouched, and asked, "You are aware, of course, of my little sister's feelings for me? I know how you used to feel about her, after all."

"Y-yes, of course," Lithuania nodded, blushing, as his partner glared at Russia, not appreciating that part of the past being brought up.

"Yes, well, last night I unfortunately drank too much. And it appears that in my drunken state I gave her exactly what she always wanted. I don't remember, of course, but it very obviously must have happened. At any rate, I woke up next to her this morning."

"Um, ew?" Poland stuck a tongue out. Lithuania elbowed him to shut him up and gestured Russia to continue.

"I did expect her to comment about it, of course, but... other than holding my hair back, she hasn't even touched me all morning. She certainly didn't bring it up even though I know she remembers. Now why, do you suppose, that is?"

Russia gave Lithuania an expectant look, no longer smiling, causing the brunette to feel very unnerved.

"Um, from what you've given me, Russia-san... Have you ever stopped to consider that, despite her, er... enthusiasm... Belarus may not be as crazy as you assumed? I mean, I don't know exactly what happened, but... she may not just want to marry you for selfish reasons... she may genuinely care about you..."

"For some reason," Poland rolled his eyes. "Ow, like quit elbowing me, Liet! So not cool!"

Ignoring the shorter blonde, Lithuania continued, "At any rate, I can't tell you her feelings. You need to ask her."

Russia stared at Lithuania for a good minute before nodding. "Well. I should go. My flight will be leaving very soon. Be a good boy, now, Lithuania," he stood and left. The brunette and his partner exchanged looks.

"Well that was totally weird," Poland wrinkled his nose. "Why'd you even, like, talk to him? He's always been like a total jerk to you, Liet."

"Don't be so selfish," Lithuania smiled softly. "And you don't need to worry, you know I'm over Belarus. I have you don't I?"

"Like, I so wasn't worried!" Poland lied, blushing. "You're mental, you know?"

"To remain at your side? I must be."

--

Russia did not have a chance to confront his sister until they returned to his house, however. He'd slept on the plane ride home in an attempt to rid himself of the hangover. It had mostly worked. And now here he was with only a mild headache and no appetite, knowing he should unpack but not wanting to as he stood out in the hall.

"Niisan?" Ah, of course she would come to him. "Why are you standing in the hall?"

"Just taking a break from unpacking," he reached out and opened his door. Shit, he couldn't go through with this. Just the way she looked at him, betraying absolutely no emotion whatsoever, made him want to shake like Latvia used to. However, as he entered his room, she followed too close behind him for him to close the door in her face.

She shut the door behind her as Russia walked into the centre of the room. When he turned to face her, she was right in front of him, causing him to jump back a metre or so.

"I can always tell when something is troubling you, niisan," she told him. "You know you can tell me... You can tell your sister these things. Anything at all. _Anything._"

He sighed, trying not to look at her because every time he did, all he could see was her naked body next to him this morning.

"Belarus, could you back up a few steps?"

"No," she deadpanned, instead taking another step forward. He stepped back to give himself space, but she continued towards him, backing him closer and closer to the wall as he spoke:

"Belarus... I know you remember what happened last night. I don't, but I can guess. So why," he hit the wall with a small _thunk_, "didn't you bring it up this morning?"

Rather than answer, she asked, "Do you wish to discuss it now?"

"I-"

"Because you know, _dear_ brother of mine, _you_ were the one who initiated. In fact, one can say that it was _you _who made love to _me_, not the other way around."

He looked up at the ceiling, anything to avoid looking at his sister. He didn't remember, true, but somehow he got the sinking feeling she was right. After all, even he acknowledged she was a pretty girl, and alcohol did loosen one's inhibitions.

Which didn't do a thing to explain what happened next.

"B-Belarus!" he gasped as she felt her pushing his scarf aside to gently kiss his neck. "What-"

"Niisan," she whispered against his neck, "I am merely showing you what you did last night, of course." With that she removed his coat - he still was wearing nothing beneath it - and began trailing kisses down to his chest. He whimpered a little, keeping his eyes on the ceiling and trying not to lose all composure. What could he do? His little sister was attacking him!

She smiled at the fact that he hadn't yet pushed her away as she continued giving progressively longer and wetter kisses all the way down, past his pecs, grazing his abs and his navel and eventually the hip bone, which she suckled hard enough to slightly bruise.

Here, he protested. "Belarus, stop. I don't think-"

"Then do not think at all, niisan," she replied.

"But I don't want this!"

"But you're hard, niisan," Belarus pointed out, grabbing said hardness in her hand as she watched his face, flushed bright red and slightly trembling. Even sweating a bit. "Niisan?"

He gulped audibly. "If you must, just _go_." He knew he would regret it - he always did when he allowed his little head to think for him rather than his big one - but it was too late to take back the request as she lowered her mouth around the tip, causing him to gasp.

She lowered her head onto his shaft as much as she could without gagging, not wanting him to come to his senses and reject her yet again. She brought her mouth back up to where she started, softly, then continued this motion, slowly increasing speed and pressure as she went.

Her left hand grasped the base of her brother's erection, stroking what she couldn't take into her mouth as she began to enhance her technique with her tongue. At first, this was only a little, pressing her tongue flat against the very tip, earning another delicious moan from her precious older brother.

Wanting that same noise again, she trilled her tongue slightly on the underside just below the head, a light, fluttery motion. Russia groaned again - where the _hell_ did his sister learn this stuff?

Wait.

It was at that moment that the full force of what he was doing hit him, and he suddenly pulled out of his sister's mouth unceremoniously, panting. She looked up at him, confused, and he quickly pulled on some pants he'd laid out on his bed to put away. Grabbing his coat from the floor, he left her kneeling there by the wall as he bolted out the door and down the hallway.

What the hell was he _doing_?! She was his little _sister_ for fuck's sake!

_TBC_


End file.
